


One Streak of Grey

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Don't wake the sleeping tiger, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack gets a nasty shock when he looks in the mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Streak of Grey

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of 50 Shades of Grey! Geddit, geddit? No? Okay, read on to find out.

The need to pee greater than his desire for more sleep, Jack stretched his limbs like a lazy cat and dragged himself away from his lover’s side. Eyes still half-closed, and stumbling into things, he padded out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to relieve himself. He yawned as he bent over the sink to wash his hands, glancing up at his reflection in the mirror. A glint of something caught his attention, and he frowned. He turned off the tap, dried his hands, and peered into the mirror, eyes now more focussed and mind more alert. His face twisted in horror at what he saw; his heart froze.

He screamed.

 

Ianto was in the middle of a pleasant dream where he and Jack were holidaying in the Canary Islands when he was woken by a bloodcurdling scream. Grabbing the gun from under his pillow, he shot out of bed, not stopping to put on pants, and traced the sound down the hallway. His heart was in his mouth, fear and adrenaline pumping like blood through his veins as he yanked open the door of the bathroom. What would he find that could have caused Jack’s cry?

“What?” he demanded when he took in the sight of Jack staring at the mirror with wide eyes and an open mouth. “What is it?”

Hearing his lover’s voice made Jack turn his head to face Ianto. With a pout and a look of despair on his face, he answered the question. “I found a grey hair.”

Ianto stared at Jack for a second before dropping the unloaded gun on the floor and doubling over as he howled with laughter while Jack watched on with bewilderment. The younger man stopped laughing after a few moments, and straightened, schooling his features into an unimpressed scowl. “Actually, that’s not funny,” he chastised. “You startled me out of bed and I ran in here expecting to see god-knows-what-danger in my house, and the only reason you screamed is because of your vanity?”

Jack had trouble responding to that. “Bu… But… I…?” He gaped at his young lover.

“The correct response would be ‘Sorry Ianto for disturbing your beauty sleep just because I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror; it won’t happen again’,” Ianto informed him, hands on hips.

Jack echoed Ianto’s words in a mumble, crumbling under the man’s gaze. “I just… I’m going to be around a long time,” he explained himself. “What’s going to happen when I’m a billion years old, instead of two thousand? What if I end up as just a wrinkly old face in a preserving jar because my body’s deteriorated with age?”

“That’s not going to happen.” Ianto stepped closer to wrap his arms around Jack in a fierce embrace. “Now tell me, where’s this grey hair?”

Jack pointed. Ianto reached up, yanked out the offending strand, and put it in the bin. He checked the rest of Jack’s hair for any other grey bits, but this appeared to be the only one. “There, all gone. Now stop your fussing and come back to bed.”

Jack smiled, and took Ianto’s hand as they walked back to the bedroom and got into bed. He pulled the duvet up over them and settled down to drape himself around Ianto. “What would I do without you?” he pondered. He tilted his head towards his lover for a kiss.

“You’d give someone else a heart attack when you find a grey hair.” Ianto rolled his eyes but accepted the kiss anyway.

After a long and drawn-out snog, Jack dragged his lips away with a satisfied sigh. He’d learnt his lesson about disturbing his lover’s sleep, but it seemed the matter was forgiven and forgotten. “Good night, Ianto,” he murmured, and tucked his head into the crook between Ianto’s neck and bare shoulder.

The young man didn’t reply; he was already asleep.


End file.
